


bittersweet sponge cake

by Gorechi



Series: sweetest suffering [1]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Blood and Gore, Cake, Character Death, Gore, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Murder, Spoilers, Torture, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 20:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gorechi/pseuds/Gorechi
Summary: Cake is delicious. It's so sweet and fluffy. It marks special occasions. It's tasty.Coppery blood is not like any of the above





	bittersweet sponge cake

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT
> 
> Not gonna lie, this story is kinda fucked up. There's a shit ton of blood and violence is described. There is a mention of vomit but it's not too serious (?) There's a character death and a suicide at the end. 
> 
> There are major spoilers for SDR2 in this. One of the deaths is an imitation of the one depicted in Chapter 5. If you haven't played through it, or at least don't know who and why they die, I recommend you to stop reading.
> 
> Major spoilers are also for NDRV3. Quotes from the sixth trial are in here, as well as the character deaths being implied. Although this takes place before that trial, just be wary.
> 
> You might not understand the ending if you don't know what the motive is in Chapter 3 of SDR2 ;)

He was pinned down on the bed, the grey restraints at his ankles and wrists clinging on tightly, forcing him in a spread out position on the bed. His chest was exposed, his usual jacket and t-shirt cast aside in a heap on the floor. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck; he perspired from both fear and anticipation. The room was cloaked in shadows that danced across his face and spiralled through his hair. The figure in front of him was turned away, and he just hoped it was a shadow too. Or a nightmare. But alas...

...Kokichi was stuck.

"Kokichi," his captor began, the voice strangely soft and sweet. It was like sponge cake. Yeah, sponge cake, keep thinking of good things. Special things. Things that don't come for him down in the middle of the night and the endless black. "Kokichi, I hope you know who I am. I'll be very disappointed if you don't. You don't want to disappoint me, do you?" The pitch change at the end made the usual sweet, monotonous voice sound like venom. He couldn't distinguish who this was. If it was Kaito or Maki, he'd be pissed off.

"N-No, I don't." Fuck, he stammered. He gave away a weakness. Godammit, he was the leader of an evil organisation; he should be braver than this. Much, much braver. The young leader felt so vulnerable, strapped down and immobile, and that same feeling of helplessness chilled him to the core. Welp, there was no going back now. He had to keep this up. Maybe he could guilt the culprit into releasing him. "Please, let me go."

"Ah, ah, ah!" The black haired boy cooed, mocking Ouma in a sing-song voice. He wagged his long index finger from side to side. Stepping out into the light, his features were clearer. Long eyelashes, grey eyes, narrow mouth...

Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective. Something didn't add up.

"Shui-chi, this...why?" Ouma struggled to find words for the events unfolding before his violet eyes. "I---" This couldn't be right, could it? The mild-mannered detective had tied him up and was now acting like a psychopath, and something told him that this wasn't an act. Then again, why would he benefit from such a realistic act? People didn't just change overnight, though. Was this his true personality? Was this one huge lie? Ouma hated liars (subsequently he hated himself, but now's not the time.)

"Shuichi Saihara? Hahaha!" Said person flailed his arms wildly. "Shuichi Saihara, Saihara Shuichi... Man, what a bad name, hah! Aww, poor Kokichi, looking so lost! Don't worry, I'll explain. But first..." He stalked over to the side of the bed. "...I have a promise to keep." His voice darkened and shifted, sounding much more sinister. Hiding something deranged. This was not the detective everyone loved. This was a madman. It actually scared Ouma when he realised how similar he acted in the class trials. He was scared, shit.

Kokichi suddenly became aware of his current situation. Very, very aware. He was restrained in a room with a guy who had lost his mind. Oh, and now he was being gagged. "What kind of kinky shit are you into- MMPH!" Those were his last words before the cloth was stuffed in his mouth. Ouma pretended he was eating a big slice of cake so his mind could block out how foul the fabric was against his tongue. It was chocolate with cream sandwiched in the middle. He was detecting some kind of raspberry jam too-

"Aww, Kokichi's trying to ignore me. How sweet!" He chuckled to himself, whipping a silver object out of his pocket, and... Shit, shit, shit, no, no, no! That was a knife, okay, he had a knife. It was going to cut the cake with the cream and the raspberry jam and red velvet sponge. The one like his mom made him when it was his birthday and nobody from school showed up. Red, the colour of roses and hearts and blood spilling out of his side, right under the ribs and the throat that was trying to scream against the rag in his mouth. It stung like hell. It stung like the bees that Gonta suffered through because of him.

"I thought that a good twist would be to add salt to the knife. Add a bit more spice to it, y'know." He removed the knife agonisingly slow, making sure to scrape off every granule of salt on the blade. To add a more dramatic effect, Shuichi licked off the blood. Crimson coated his lips. "Mmm, Kokichi, you taste so good~!" He moaned, eyes half closed, a deep shade of pink spreading across those pale cheeks. This...was not Saihara. Saihara would gasp in horror and untie the boy on the bed and hold him in his arms and stop the bleeding. He would've cried for help and made sure he didn't die. Saihara... He wanted him back, so they could hug. He was scared and he didn't want this. He didn't even want to lie. He just wanted the only person who cared back.

Big, fat tears rolled down his cheeks, like the big, fat lies he told himself at the moment. He was fine, he wasn't gonna bleed out, he wasn't gonna die... Lies, lies, lies! He imagined the cake yet again, this time it was carrot cake. He was sitting in the kitchen with his friends. Kirumi had baked it for them all. Rantaro was talking with Kiibo and Kaito, smiling. Tenko discussed magic with Himiko. Kaede was happy that they were all together and Shuichi...He wasn't like this. Nobody was dead. Nobody was dead, nobody was dead. Everything was happy!

The bloodstained blade slammed down on his hand, slipping straight through it like butter. Crimson spurted across the white silk sheets. It would've been beautiful under different circumstances. He screamed against the cloth again. There's so much pain and he just wants it to end. He...just wants to die, right there, or at least have someone find him. What about Himiko? O-or Maki? Or...Or... Who was he kidding? They didn't care for him. He wouldn't be surprised if they danced on his corpse after how he had treated them.

"Oh, oh, fun fact!" Shuichi twists the blade again, eliciting a pained groan from the smaller boy. "This counts as an imitation murder, right? Nagito Komaeda, remember?" There's almost no time for a response. "Well, he propped his hand on the plushie, but I guess this still counts. He was impaled by a spear, and he stabbed himself in the thighs and arms. Hmm, yeah, and Nagito was killed by poison too. Well, you'll be glad to know that I got my hands on the poison! Not identical, obviously, but still-- Oh! And the spear, I couldn't quite get, but an iron skewer will do, right?" The boy rambled on, taking out the knife, licking it, and ramming it into Ouma's left arm.

Too much blood. Too much red. Kokichi's head was spinning. What was he thinking? How much blood had he lost? Oh yeah, carrot cake, right? He tried to go back to that vision of his friends, all together. Well, friends was a strong word. Acquaintances, at the very least. They hated him, but he still cared for them. It's kind of funny how he deemed Shuichi the most trustworthy. Look how well that turned out...! However, this time around, only he was sitting in front of the cake. He bit into it. Copper was all he could taste. No warm, sweetness of something freshly baked. Just copper, like a coin. Like... There was no need to go on. It was all over his scarf and chin and clothes. He'd made a mess, as usual. The carrot cake was not there anymore.

"...I said, we might have to move on!" Shuichi yelled in his ear. Oh. He must've blacked out. There were new wounds on his body, including slashes on his thighs and more stabs on his arms. His breathing was shallow, uneven. Kokichi Ouma, Ultimate Supreme Leader, was going to die at the hands of a sadistic motherfucker. At least he yearned for death at this point, so it was a little bit of a win-win for him. He moaned sleepily. So tired. 

"Well, then, I suppose I should just get started." Shuichi turned to some kind of bag, and Ouma was granted some kind of temporary rest. He evened out his breathing. He could do this. He could do this. He saw how long and sharp the skewer was. He saw how it was slightly rusty too.

He could not do this.

His body convulsed in agony as the skewer slid in to a patch of soft tissue underneath his heart. The tears leaked uncontrollably from his eyes. He could feel the rod impale his chest, the sharp end prodding at his insides. There was no point in holding back now, as Ouma's stomach flipped and he vomited slightly, the gag forcing him to keep the sour liquid in his mouth. 

"Honestly, Kokichi, you should have more self control. Now I have to remove the gag so you don't choke on your own vomit. You disgust me." The detective scoffed, leaving the skewer still halfway in Ouma's chest. He removed the cloth and the greenish water was spat away onto the pillow next to the kid. After this, he didn't replace the gag. The walls were soundproof after all. He just wanted to fuck with Kokichi in the end. "I'm bored, Kokichi." He drawled, "I wanna hear you scream louder." And with that, he slammed on the skewer, thrusting it through Ouma's chest.

Ouma's vision clouded with white as the sharp object dug through him. He couldn't speak, he just moaned and shivered. After the initial pain had passed, that was when he screamed. Loud and filled with pain, it echoed on each wall. It was haunting, chilling and absolutely perfect in the opinion of Saihara. This went on for a minute. There was a burning in his throat by the time he was reduced to frantic mumbling. "L-Let me d-d-die, p-please. S--aihara, Shuichi, k-ki-ll me. I c-can-t do this." Ouma gasped for air. 

Shuichi stared at the boy. "Hmm? I can do that! For a moment there, I thought you were going to ask for freedom. Hahaha!" He was in hysterics again. "One dose of poison coming right up! You were getting boring, to be honest. The viewers don't like your character, well, fangirls do, but I don't think anyone else does. Ah well, sorry about that. Really I am. It's a shame you didn't die in Kaede's place. The audience loves a heroic sacrifice!" He popped the cork off a bottle of red liquid. "You can just drink this. It's not painful. Go on, you deserved it." He poured it down Kokichi's throat, causing the aforementioned to choke.

Ouma's last thoughts were of DICE and the vanilla sponge cake they had bought him for his tenth birthday. They had all saved some money up for it, and despite it being small and from a shady corner shop across the street, it had tasted the sweetest. The icing was perfect. Everyone loved it, and everyone smiled. That's all he'd wanted to do, after all. He wanted love and someone to love him, and DICE did just that. Ouma closed his eyes in contentment, and they didn't open again.

There's an odd silence that settles after his death. The room is suddenly empty and Saihara relishes in it. His head was pounding, brain mashing against his skull. There wasn't much time though, so he gets to work on applying duct tape to Ouma's quiet mouth. The gag is placed at the bottom of the trash can underneath the empty bottle of poison, the restraints and tissues. Shuichi fished around in his pocket before retrieving the box of matches and burning the thing. He had no idea what he was doing at this point and oh...

Oh...

Oh...

\--------------------------------  
The body discovery announcement played twice that morning. Once for Kokichi Ouma, who was discovered dead in his own bed, body horribly mutilated. He was still smiling.

The other was for Shuichi Saihara, found on the floor next to the bed. His neck was sliced open by a blade covered in saliva and traces of salt.

It was such a shame that the latter was infected with the Despair Disease.

\---------------------------------

"I will come up with the best, most gruesome murders, I promise! Everyone will love it!"

**Author's Note:**

> Yeahhh
> 
> This was written at 2am.
> 
> Blood and gore, Suicide, Death, Cake, Vomiting = Success.


End file.
